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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469881">I Can't Finish This Dance Alone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegaDiancie/pseuds/MegaDiancie'>MegaDiancie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cookie Run (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ballroom Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Great Blue Cheese Bastard actually saves the day for once, Moving On, Multi, Unrequited Crush</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:35:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegaDiancie/pseuds/MegaDiancie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the final ball of the year. Every cookie from across the lands has shown up, but in this crowd, Cocoa only has eyes for one. But does he still share that sentiment in return? It's a night of nothing but tested hope.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cocoa Cookie/Mint Choco Cookie (Cookie Run), Cocoa Cookie/Roguefort Cookie (Cookie Run)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Can't Finish This Dance Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When she was informed that transportation to the biggest (and last) party of the year would be provided, she expected Red Bean Cookie to take the streets carrying as many people as his sled could handle in one trip. At least it made sense in her head, what with all the snowfall the cookie kingdom had been hit with recently.</p><p> </p><p>What she didn't expect, however, was receiving an entire carriage to come knocking on her door, driven by two dark truffle stallions. She was at first convinced they had the wrong house, but confirmation that yes, she <em>was </em> Cocoa Cookie, solidified that they were sent after her. And the coachman had even been kind enough to help her get in since her outfit was far too elaborate to fit into small spaces easily.</p><p> </p><p>She wasn't even sure that was she was wearing was even real. As soon as Cocoa RSVP'd to the invitation sent, Cheesecake Cookie came by not even a day later, insisting they needed to find a dress immediately, despite the said party being two whole weeks away. She was dragged away from her untouched breakfast and spent the next eight hours in every boutique that existed, and even in ones she'd never heard of.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, even Cheesecake's private tailor had stepped in, offering the fullest extent of their service. She spent days getting measured head-to-toe and sampling fabrics of every texture. She tried on dozen of shoes, shawls, and jewelry. There were <em>so </em>many beta designs and outfits that got rejected for one reason or another. After discovering what worked best on her through hours of experimentation, they found their look.</p><p> </p><p>And the finished result was this. A floor-length sleeveless ball gown of deep red velvet and accents of gold. Paired with white elbow-length gloves and a pale yellow fur shawl that only amplified her silhouette tenfold. Earlier that day, she visited a beauty salon that did her hair and makeup, bringing out her eyelashes and interweaving strands of pearls around her brown locks. And to bring it all together, a hat sculpted after a teacup with the same intricate design motif. She was even given a real matching tea set as a surprise gift.</p><p> </p><p>Now it was held in her grasp nervously as the carriage carefully made its way through the ice and snow to its destination. The horse’s hoof steps and the metal wheels turning were the only noises with her through the ride. And that left a lot of room for thinking. Maybe too much of it.</p><p> </p><p>She was assured by the overeager hostess that this night would be absolutely perfect. But how could Cheesecake even know that? Was she taking lessons from Prophet Cookie?</p><p> </p><p>Cocoa knew herself better than anyone else, which meant she knew how this commute was taking her into nothing but almost certain displeasure. Large gatherings, crowds, places far too noisy to find a moment to hear yourself think. It would usually overwhelm her not long into it and all too soon time was devoted to constant glances at the clock to head home early. But she knew what she was signing up for the moment she accepted the invitation. In the letter, printed with bronze ink, listed out that Mint Choco Cookie would be the star of the night’s music.</p><p> </p><p>It had been quite a while since it happened, but she remembers how their last interaction ended. He was so busy these days but found time to play a recently composed piece for her while she sat next to him and intently listened. If she closed her eyes and let her mind wander with the melody, it would feel like no time had passed since they first met. Like there weren't any large scores of fans fighting to harken to him as soon as the two of them parted. Like he wasn't too rich and too fancy for what little she could give him in return; hot cocoa and her most genuine compliments. Like things could still be just a street musician playing for a girl.</p><p> </p><p>They enjoyed what little brief moment they could get together before he was meant to attend to one of his many responsibilities. And just as he was getting up to leave, Cocoa had felt emboldened enough to shyly ask if they could do this again. That's when he said it.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Why the next time we meet Lady Cocoa, I'll be inclined to save a song for us</em>." And just like that, he'd promised it. And she'd repeated it in her head henceforth from then on. Because their next reunion would prove to be a long wait, to her immense disfavor.</p><p> </p><p>In the following months when he was completely absent from home altogether, touring in far off lands and hosting endless concert after show after recital, meeting who knows who and seeing Millennial Tree knows what, she went on with her quiet little boring life. But she held his words as if they were a locket, always with her and tangible, close to her heart where it'd keep her happy on the days she really missed him. </p><p> </p><p>And this is how he was announcing his return, the biggest party since everyone celebrated their anniversary. Was he waiting for her this eve, ready to act on his pledge from all that time ago?</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. A night ahead with nothing but high expectations. Who could really tell if this was excitement or fried nerves she was jittering under.</p><p> </p><p>The carriage pulled into the gates of the manor and soon stopped in front of the entrance. A glorious staircase sweeping upwards illuminated by spotlights and celebratory banners. She is helped out of her ride once more by the coachman and just as her feet make contact with the first step, someone immediately spots her.</p><p> </p><p>"Cocoa!" An enthusiastic cry rang from the top of the stairs. She didn't need to even look upwards to know Cheesecake was hustling two-steps at a time with a flashy gown on in a rush to greet her. Soon she is hugged with equal levels of vigor, and copious amounts of expensive perfume made her head spin. "You look FANTASTIC! I'm so glad you could make it, I was half-worried you wouldn't show!"</p><p> </p><p>"After everything you did for me, including sending a personal chauffeur my way? How could I be crazy enough to refuse?" She playfully countered. Cocoa brings her head to look behind her and gasps. “T-there’s even more matching carriages pulling up! Cheesy, did you get rides for every cookie in town?” She asks incredulously. Her friend gives an eager laugh in response.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Pffft </em> darling please, it’s not as if there’s a coach for every <em>single </em> guest... Most cookies are carpooling!” She simplifies as if that made it any less unbelievable. </p><p> </p><p>Cocoa decides not to question it further, that never went far when it came to the hostess’s eager spending habits.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh please go right ahead on in! You’re just in time, the main events will start any minute!” Cheesecake nudges her upwards. “I’ll join you and every one as soon as Princess and Knight show up. She has such a tendency to be fashionably late, it’s rather tiring, but every good party needs its dramatics I guess.” She shoots Cocoa a bemused look. The latter just gives her a smile in return before starting up the vast stairs and making her way inside.</p><p> </p><p>The hallways of the manor were dimly lit, the ample displays of wealth hidden for the night. It wasn’t their time to glisten and steal the attention away from this moment. Butlers were lined up at the entryway into the ballroom, taking winter coats off every guest’s hands. They bow formally to greet her, and she steps forth.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, it’s different each year, and she’s never certain how Cheesy does it. This time it's as if they're in a golden celebration hosted high up in the heavens and not down on earth. Fixated chandeliers and oriental lights, hundreds hanging in the air. Ivory curtains and silk tapestry is woven all around and above them. Rhinestones fixated into much of the hanging deco to reflect the hundreds of light sources and dazzle the atmosphere even more.</p><p> </p><p>A grand elevated platform on one end, ludicrous displays of food on the other (she had no idea there were bear jellies that <em>came</em> in those colors). In between, a large stretch of space for ballroom dancing. Sparkling Cookie was even granted his own mini-bar in one corner, where he was already busy prepping cocktails. </p><p> </p><p>Cookies from every local and international neighborhood were here. She could spot Gingerbrave looking uncomfortable in his spiffiest suit, talking to two purple strangers she would guess were from the distant land of Yogurca, judging by their unique fashion.</p><p> </p><p>A server walks by her carrying a tray of drinks, before noticing Cocoa and pausing to offer her refreshments. When she asks if they by any chance have hot cocoa, a fresh serving is poured into the teacup she brought along, much to her delight. Cheesecake really did plan for everything.</p><p> </p><p>As the cup is brought to her lips, green movement from the corner of her eye makes her freeze.</p><p> </p><p>There he was. From across the entire length of the ballroom, but she could spot him from a crowd at an even bigger distance. Cookies and other important folk surrounded him and blocked out most of his features, but his signature hair, that sharp green and white, was a dead giveaway.</p><p> </p><p>As he turns around, she notices the rest of his outfit. A crisp uniform in bright holiday emerald complemented with black in the form of a vest, a hat, boots, and a cape. His clothes were adorned in baroque patterns and accents of brilliant gold, it was almost like they were both dressed to match (the thought alone makes her heart skip). His hair had now grown enough to be tied in a simple ponytail. Had it really been so long?</p><p> </p><p>She marvels at his beauty for a few more moments, and in turn, he notices her. It was brief eye contact, but she saw his gentle smile come across his features. She wasn’t sure how she looked back at him. Lovestruck? Wide-eyed? Embarrassingly infatuated?</p><p><br/>The moment is cut far too soon, as Mr. So Fa La Si nudges the man's shoulder and urgently tells him something. Mint Choco makes a surprised face then turns to head upwards on stage where the rest of the band for the evening was already waiting. He is given a violin, different from his regular one, also covered in dazzling gold sheen and with a bow to match.</p><p> </p><p>He opens with slow solo, the rest of the musicians carefully integrating themselves in a steady, increasing climax. But Mint Choco isn't lost with all the other instruments coming into play. Instead, it is like everything else only amplifies him and him alone. Hypnotic, jubilant, and dizzying. She doesn't know when all attention from every guest was turned to the stage, but she knows they're caught in this rapture all the same. The piece concludes in a final dying note, before the ballroom is plunged into silence.</p><p> </p><p>Unanimous applause immediately erupted, whoops and hollers from all around. He takes a gracious bow. She finds herself unable to do anything but smile so wide her cheeks hurt. He had only gotten better since he left, if that was somehow possible. And now she was going to tell him that five times over when he came down and-</p><p> </p><p>His violin is brought up to rest on his shoulder once again. A new theme begins to sound out.</p><p> </p><p>Oh. It was time for another song immediately?</p><p> </p><p>She didn't expect that. Huh. Well, that was alright, eventually, he'd come down after his time up there was over. And she'd waited this long to talk with him again, she could wait a few minutes more.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>"Miss Cocoa, I must say, even if you wish to only watch instead of partaking," Whipped Cream Cookie lamented. "I want you to see my performance not with mere eyes, but with your whole soul. Your appearance is so stunning, it inspires me to perform until dawn!"</p><p> </p><p>She simply smiled as the ballerino finished his deplore. To others, the speech may have seemed superfluous and tacky, but she knew how passionate he was about his craft and what it meant to him.</p><p><br/>“Thank you, Whipped Cream. I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for you, I know no one else will look better on the dance floor.” She compliments. He does a gracious bow, thanking her before returning into the charged-up crowd. As soon as he leaves, she spots someone sashaying to her side.</p><p> </p><p>"While I'm sure trying to keep up with Mr. Fairy Waltz over there isn't something most of us would want to do either," Cheesecake comments, Princess and Knight trailing not far behind. "The ball is well underway and everyone is already here. You should join us." She urges.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh don't you worry about me, Cheesy. Mint Choco promised me a song already. I'll keep myself available for as long as it takes for him to need a breather from the music." She assured.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, knowing him, that could be a <em>while…</em>" Cheesecake cautions. Cocoa just shakes her head.</p><p> </p><p>"I trust him. Now don't go worrying about me for all of <em>your </em>party. You should be having the most fun yourself for putting this all together!" Cocoa eagerly encourages. Cheesecake simply grins in response.</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, alright, I'll fold. But don't forget to extend your order onto yourself hon. I want everyone to enjoy themselves tonight." With that, Cheesecake struts off, seeking out Sparkling for another glass of champagne.</p><p> </p><p>Cocoa sees her walk away, then turns her attention to the stage once more. Mint was truly incredible, and the oncoming dance? It would be even more so.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>One. Two. Five. Maybe… Thirteen. There were thirteen whole marshmallows in her hot cocoa. Well, it couldn't really be called "hot" by now. She was never one to refuse cocoa, but the large anxie- <em> anticipation </em>she was under made her have a hard time swallowing anything down. But that was okay!</p><p> </p><p>The party had been going on for quite a while at this rate. She forgets exactly how many dances the guests had frolicked through. It was hard keeping track of any of them or what they were doing. Mint Choco and his limitless stamina seemed to be contagious, as no matter how many times she assumed it was time for a break, the crowd would demand an encore. And he would happily oblige.</p><p> </p><p>And when it did seem like he was tired, someone much closer in proximity would immediately be by his side. She observed the whole time as Cinnamon came begging to showcase magic alongside the band, Carol performing a wonderful duet with her lyre, Birthday Cake with her strict schedule reminding everyone when it was time to switch into which preplanned routine. And Cheesecake, being… well, Cheesecake, as she would interject randomly with her own desired songs.</p><p> </p><p>It was quite the spectacle, watching the entire assembly become enthralled at a single draw of his bow, everyone would begin to waltz in perfect harmony as if enchanted by the violin's strings. He would take every measure to please, but he never looked like he had time to share another gaze with her like in the very beginning. Did the crowd obscure her? Was she supposed to fight her way to the foot of the stage to remind him? Oh, she prayed that wasn't the case, Cocoa couldn't be that bold in her wildest dreams.</p><p> </p><p>Numerous cookies had come to her initially in hopes of leading her to the first dance of the evening, but after politely turning down each of them and explaining why, it seemed most had gotten the hint on moved on with the party. </p><p> </p><p>Despite resigning herself next to the extravagant tables that held all the food, she hadn't so much as grabbed one bite. Or refilled her cup since the beginning either. But who could dance with a stomach full of hot drink?</p><p> </p><p>Right, right, the dance she was promised. It had to happen soon. She was sure of it. Didn't matter if her cocoa turned to ice by then. She hadn't had a chance like this in so l-</p><p> </p><p>"If you stare any harder at that teacup madam, I'm afraid you'll make it cry with false guilt." A voice smooth as satin suddenly spoke from right next to her. </p><p> </p><p>With an ungraceful "EEP!" Cocoa dropped her drink altogether, so taken off guard was she at the moment. As the fine china plummeted, all she could think of was the brown mess her dress would turn into in mere seconds. So much for the perfect evening.</p><p> </p><p>Or so she thought. Even though she flinched in anticipation, the splash never came. She opened her eyes and saw the beverage perfectly caught by the saucer with one hand, just inches from her outfit. The mysterious source of the voice stood back up straight, before turning to Cocoa and presenting her chilled drink with perfect mannerisms.</p><p> </p><p>"I believe this is yours." The stranger spoke, bestowing the gold and red ceramic like it was a crown.</p><p> </p><p>"Th-thank you…" She replied in awe, taking her teacup back. But it was the last thing on her mind now. She took in the full appearance of her dress's savior.</p><p> </p><p>Blonde hair tied loosely in a ponytail behind them, decked in rich blue and sterling silver like real royalty. Elaborate lace and ribbons tying it all together. They carried themselves with regality but didn't come off as flashy or attention-seeking. A peculiar cane was held in one hand. And warm teal eyes that shone down bright and eager at her like, <em> jewels</em>, best she could describe them. She catches herself gawking at them and snaps out of it, feeling embarrassed.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh! Where are my manners! I don't think we've met before," She gave the most courteous bow she could. "My name is Cocoa Cookie. And who might you be?" She inquired.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I should hope we haven't, I could never forget meeting a polished diamond like yourself among all these rhinestones." They respond, bringing out a warm feeling to her cheeks. She'd been complimented all night, but something was different about these words. Almost like they had a personal touch to them. "I tend to go by many names, but you may call me Phantom Bleu." They finish with a mischievous wink.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Phantom Bleu. Is there something I can help you with?" Cocoa asked.</p><p> </p><p>"Is there ever!" They proclaim in a melodramatic manner, throwing their arms up. It works in drawing out a smile on her face. Phantom Bleu continues. "You see, I'm not one for over popular scenes like this. In fact, for most guests here, this will be their first and last time ever seeing me." They lean in and speak in a hushed tone next to her as if sharing a secret. "I tend to do quite the memorable vanishing act, it's a gift, some would say."</p><p> </p><p>"O-okay…" Cocoa stutters, not sure how to react to this. Vanish? Why? Before she could ask more, Bleu was already talking again. </p><p> </p><p>"There I was, tastefully scouring every attendee and the worth any of them possessed, planning to take my leave soon. Just then, I spot the loveliest, most vividly lustrous cookie of all, sent to wait out this spectacle from the view of the buffet tables. No one did so much as approach her, converse, or make merriment. How was any rational person to go on thinking it had nothing to do with them, leave her there looking awfully uneased and alone? If I never sought to fix this travesty, I'd never forgive myself." They end their tale with a solemn shake of their head, before perking right back up. "Do you mind if I were to keep you company?"</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't a request to dance, so there really was no downside she could see some companionship. The alternative was going back to counting cold marshmallows.</p><p> </p><p>"I think I'd like that very much. Thank you." She responds with a sweet smile.</p><p> </p><p>"Delightful!" They cheer, moving to stand right beside her, leaning against the wall poised and sophisticated. It looked like such grace came as naturally to them as breathing. "A cocoa powder flavored cookie drinking hot cocoa, how quaint. Do you by chance own marshmallows to get even tastier?" They jest. Their tone brings out an unconventional response from her.</p><p> </p><p>"For your information, my hamster's an actual marshmallow, and so is my hat, and no I don't eat either of them, so <em> nyeh.</em>" She playfully sticks her tongue out. Soon she finds herself laughing together with them, a first for the evening.</p><p> </p><p>"And what about you? What's your mother ingredient? Some kind of arcane lost mushroom, adding to your secretive mood?" She challenges back.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh but my dear, if you want to retain a flavor of impeccable mystery to yourself, finer details are to be left up in the air. Knowing everything is boring after all." And just like that, they drew her in, hook, line, and sinker.</p><p> </p><p>The two of them go on like that for a while, talking about anything that would come to their minds. She gushed over her dear hamster more, only for them to reveal their cherished cat to her (Lord Crumbles III was the best pet name she ever heard). She would go into her favorite pastimes, like knitting, only to find out how talented they were in calligraphy. It was always an answer in turn for theirs, only making her need to earn another puzzle piece, unravel the walking enigma.</p><p> </p><p>If she were to look back on this moment from a point in the future, Cocoa would be surprised just how quickly her walls came down around them, her general shy disposition melted away like chocolate as she grew to talk to them like an old friend. She had done the right thing in letting them stay with her, it was all too easy to almost forget why she was there to begin with. And then Phantom Bleu decided to ask her <em>that.</em></p><p> </p><p>"Now, I can tell this kind of soiree doesn't fair well for you. That explains how you decided to sit out most of the events tonight. But I can't put down why you'd be here at all, home sounds much cozier than this."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm waiting for a good friend, I was promised a dance the next time we met." Cocoa answers.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, someone saved a song for you?" Bleu teases. She nods, heart feeling fuzzy when she is reminded.</p><p> </p><p>Really, it was just a small favor. And yet it would make her entire year possibly.</p><p> </p><p>"What a warming gaze you've got! Certainly, this friend must mean a great deal to you." They nudge.</p><p> </p><p>"He does. Even before everyone else grew to adore him just as much as I.” She catches herself as soon as it leaves her mouth, and makes a face. She didn't mean to make it sound so strangely, <em> resentful</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh but that just means this wonderful person is getting the recognition he deserves, yes?" Bleu offers up. "You make him sound like quite the charmer. Fame comes in heavy spades to those who were born for it." They reach over to a nearby table and grab from one of the many vast dishes of hors d'oeuvres. As they munch away graciously, she finds herself pondering. </p><p> </p><p>Something about that doesn't sit right with her. Born for it? It was true his talent went unnoticed for years on the streets, and maybe this was what he really deserved coming to him all at once after getting <em>nothing </em>for so long, but...</p><p> </p><p>"Phantom Bleu?" Cocoa asks. "Have you ever found yourself suddenly thrust into greater things, maybe it overwhelming you too much to look back?" She doesn't know why she's pushed into saying it, but there's this little twinge in her chest, an ache, looking for some sort of release.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Ohhhohoho,</em>" They burst into laughter, dry and devoid of genuine humor. "I'm afraid if we went into detail of that madam, we could find ourselves here until the new year." There is a flicker, a small abrupt <em>halt</em> to their ceaselessly suave aura, but they hide it immediately. </p><p> </p><p>This brings distress to her and once more she can't nail down why. Phantom Bleu wasn't the same as Mint Choco, comparing their lives as if they would both give her the same answer if asked was absurd. But somehow she's left wanting to squirm as a thought crawls its way out into the forefront of her mind.</p><p> </p><p>It takes all her willpower to push it down as she turns away from them to face forward but her eyes can't focus on the scene in front of her, much less the stage. The ache worsens.</p><p> </p><p>Bleu leans over into her line of sight again, noticing something wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Mint Choco wouldn't forget about her. He just wouldn't. But he could out-prioritize, determine her needs lesser than what anyone else would possibly want from him. And, and there's something wrong with his famous last words to her, suddenly taking on a whole new meaning after viewing them in a different light.</p><p> </p><p><em> I'll be inclined to save a song for us. </em> What did that even <b>mean</b>, now that she thought about it? Inclined had a different definition to it than something like a <em> vow. </em> Or <em> I swear. </em></p><p> </p><p>It meant if he felt like it. If he was in the mood to do so. Which… which judging by how he wouldn't so much as leave that stage for five <em>minutes</em>, gave incredibly obvious signals.</p><p> </p><p>"Madam Cocoa?" Bleu looks at her with what she could only hope was worry and not pity, but at this point, the pain in her chest is making her breathe too hard to get anything out. Anything except what was needed.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>I don't think he meant it as a promise.</em>" She reveals in a far too quiet voice. Somehow it's the hardest thing in the world for her to say.</p><p> </p><p>"Pardon?" Phantom Bleu asks, genuinely puzzled. But the concern in their tone for her goes unregistered. The room also seems to shake. Maybe it was vertigo. Never before had this music seemed so much like punishment as it pounded into her head. The ache internally seems to flare up for a moment, forcing her to confront what she was certain was already true.</p><p> </p><p>"T-this was a mistake." Is all she can ultimately confess.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he moved on from her a while ago. She was just too slow to realize and let her own feelings make a fool out of herself.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe, just maybe, Mint Choco's incredible songs weren't for her anymore.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Plink </em>
</p><p> </p><p>A tear makes noise as it drops into her cup. And then a second, then a third.</p><p> </p><p>Cocoa feels like her insides are a smashed faucet, and now that the waterways are spewing, the valve loosened, trying to hold them back up would only make an uglier mess. A lump deep in her throat forms, one she can't swallow away so easily.</p><p> </p><p>The last thing she ever wants now is attention drawn to her, so she quickly turns her head away as soon she realizes she's actually crying. She cannot, <em> must </em>not fall apart here, least of all in front of this poor cookie just trying to assure she wasn't alone. But that was it, right?</p><p> </p><p>She WAS alone, she'd BEEN alone the entire evening, hooked on a small imaginary promise no one else remembered, least of all <em>him. </em> But Mint Choco wasn't responsible for how she felt about him. It wasn't his job to constantly drop everything for her whenever she wanted in spite of him becoming one of the busiest cookies in the world. No, no, she had just been the fool who let herself get left behind in the dust while others sought better lives for themselves.</p><p> </p><p>She'd stuck her neck out to come here, knowing what distress crowds brought her but did it anyway, didn't even get a "hello" in return but waited patiently anyway, hoping she'd just get one <b><em>song-</em> </b></p><p> </p><p>A noise leaves her mouth as a sob chokes her. Her free gloved hand scrubs at her face but there was too much to just wipe away no matter how hard she screwed her eyelids closed. Fighting to control her uneven breathing, the loud background music was driving her insane as she tried to stem her eyes. With her back turned to them, she could only imagine what Phantom Bleu thought of her.</p><p> </p><p>"Here." Is all they say. She can feel her teacup getting gently taken out of her grasp and something soft and smooth as silk being placed in her now empty palm. It did wonders for cleaning up her features of any evidence of tears. If Cheesecake saw her like this, she'd spend the whole night fretting over her. </p><p> </p><p>A hand is placed on her back, and she is guided out of the ball's sidelines and through one of the many double doors leading out into a grand veranda. The winter chill bites at her wet face but she ignores it in favor of letting out as much bottled over emotions as she can before anyone else might walk in on her. Deal with it all now, because she knows she doesn't have the strength to put it all back inside to face for another time.</p><p> </p><p>Phantom Bleu remains incredibly polite with her throughout it. Doesn't ask any questions, or request their handkerchief back. They wait with her in the dark moonless night, all until her sniffles finally stop.</p><p> </p><p>Only when she heaves her last shaky breath, does Bleu place one hand on her shoulder and speak.</p><p> </p><p>"There is no shame in putting yourself out there, madam. People are far more easily shaped by their regrets over what was never approached rather than sticking to your hearts pull and remaining true." They offer. </p><p> </p><p>By all means, it actually comforts her greatly. Rejection, getting ignored, it <em>hurt</em>. But what would she be doing if she didn't come here? Staying at home and obsessing over how magical and fantastic and <b><em>perfect </em></b>the evening would've been, scorning herself for weeks afterward for never even trying. This was at least closure.</p><p> </p><p>She tries her best to fold up the damp crumpled fabric into a presentable square and hand it back, only to see Bleu was holding their hand out for something else; her own.</p><p> </p><p>She can hear through the closed glass doors that another song has ended. Bleu's eyes twinkle at her with a mirthful grin in tow.</p><p> </p><p>"It appears one of tonight's many enchanting melodies is ready to get replaced by one more. What do you say we make sure everyone remembers the next one for a long time?" They ask in earnest.</p><p> </p><p>Cocoa just gapes, sudden anxiety filling her. This would be a mistake. A huge one. She could only imagine what kind of teary-eyed mess she'd look like once getting back under the lights. In full view for everyone, for <em>him</em>, to see.</p><p> </p><p>But, but, but, she can't bring herself to reject her new friends offer. She came all this way, dressed her absolute best, and if it wasn't for Mint Choco, then… who?</p><p> </p><p>She is brought back to when she first asked him to teach her how to ballroom dance. He'd humbly laughed at her simple request, telling her it would be an honor. Even when her sparse lessons were done, she'd keep up the practicing long after. Repeating them again and again. When out shopping, late evening strolls, at home alone with nothing but a mirror and Marshmallow Hamster for moral support.</p><p> </p><p>She'd come a long way since then. There was real enjoyment in every clumsy but genuine moment of it. It was why she initially knew this party would be so fun. Dancing deep into the night, cares far away, like every fairy tale she'd read to herself. She had the ball, the dress, all she'd been denied was one song. </p><p> </p><p>Bleu's advice rings through her mind. Regrets molded you. As much as she'd regret making herself the fool of the party, she knew she'd regret denying herself this one last chance even <em>more</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Cocoa takes a moment to steel herself, then firmly takes Bleu's offered hand. Their smile widens before they proceed in opening the doors and stepping back inside with her.</p><p> </p><p>Her Phantom guides her all the way into the center of the dance floor, past many familiar and foreign faces along the way. Just as the conversations start to die out and the first strings can be heard from the percussion. </p><p> </p><p>Cocoa can feel her partner bring a hand to her hip, and she by habit, brings her own up to their shoulder. All those hours spent getting into starting position, it came to her like instinct now. As she places her feet correctly, she finally looks upwards into their eyes. And promptly stays there.</p><p> </p><p>How many times did she already get lost in them by now? Must've been several already. Well was she to blame, when they were so enticing? Far too easy to fall into and never come back out. And what luck, she needed something to get lost in.</p><p> </p><p>The first notes of the concerto begin to sound. In tandem, they step forth together. As if they've been practicing with each other for years. One advance after another, her nerves slowly diffuse with every beat.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm starting to wish I underdressed. Imagine how flashy I must look to everyone." She says with a small giggle.</p><p> </p><p>"I think you've never been more radiant than with that genuine smile on your face." They reply, having no idea how much it really meant to her. "One step after the other, yes?"</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, that's all it was. One step, followed by a few more. It was no different than making hot cocoa, she'd convinced herself back when she was first learning. Warm the milk, prepare the cocoa powder and sugar, add the marshmallows. Move your weight onto your right foot, then step forward with your left and shift the weight again, act in tandem with your partner.</p><p> </p><p>Same as hot cocoa. Same as knitting. Same as life and moving on. She knows she's at risk of crying again but keeps her gaze steady with her counterpart.</p><p> </p><p>Phantom Bleu twirls her, and for the first time in the evening, the music elevates the scene instead of distracting her from it. Together they shift into a faster pace, then a slower drawl, then fast again. The tempo fluctuates like a pendulum as they guide her through new and old routines and even she gets her chances to teach them something in return. At one point she is dipped, and it's as if all the world turns on its head. Much like how her own did in the last half hour.</p><p> </p><p>If cookies are staring, gossiping, or just ignoring her as usual, she no longer cares. She has all <em>their </em>attention to her, and right here, right now, nothing else in the world tops it. </p><p> </p><p>She forgets how many songs the two of them could've danced to. Was it only for a brief moment or the rest of the night? All she can recall is the breathless wonder, the small banter they always share in between, the way their palm fits just right into hers.</p><p> </p><p>The golden glow of the endless glittering lights dances over her vision, as she brings her head to rest contentedly on Bleu’s shoulder. She is drawn close to their chest and they sway back on forth to the gentle rhythm. For a lack of better words, Cocoa says the first thing to come to her.</p><p> </p><p>"If all those things you said back there were true, and you're meant to vanish by tonight, I-" She pauses as her eyes close and she lets the sonata reach its crescendo. The piano's final verse puts the rest of the words on her tongue. "I need you to know how grateful I am."</p><p> </p><p>"Dancing with you has proved to be more worth my time than any jewel I've sought after." They cooly reply.</p><p> </p><p>"No no no…" She mumbled into their shoulder. "You stepped in just to fix my evening. Someone you never met before. Heaven knows I would've made myself stay stuck glued to the spot. Unsure of whether to do anything or keep up this fantasy of the cookie of my dreams swooping in, all the way until morning came." And <em>there's </em>the innate shame of her ridiculous actions coming once again to eat at her. But it wasn't nearly as strong now. </p><p> </p><p>Cocoa feels how Phantom Bleu immerses into the slow beat even more, and their arms come upwards to comfort her. From where her face was buried, close to the crook of their neck, a strong bitter scent could be made out. It reminded her of a fancy cheese a party like this would serve, funnily enough. But that was all the better, she needed something to constantly ring in that this wasn’t all a dream. Reality tended to turn out a lot more outlandish than her own simple imagination.</p><p> </p><p>"If we're to be truthful, I think you ultimately saved yourself." They confess. "You didn’t have to dance at all tonight, that alone must’ve taken tremendous courage, it earns you my sincerest respect." She weakens under their genuine commendation, but Bleu isn't done. "And you did tell me how out of element you felt in grand parties, facing your discomfort and coming here must've been a battle on its own. You're so much braver than you let on." How did they always know the <em>right </em>thing to say? Cocoa did consider herself easy to please, but the way months of repressed worries and troubles came crashing down to her all at once, ripping her heart apart and even physically nauseating her. The only thing someone would be certain of after something like that was any attempts of comfort would just inflame the open wound. But somehow, Bleu did nothing but slow advances to soothe the pain word by word.</p><p> </p><p>“One night,” she pleads, brown eyes still shut tight. “Can we… have one night, at least? So I'll cherish both you and this evening for as long as I can remember."</p><p> </p><p>She felt them lean into her, then nod. “But of course." And she doesn't have to look to know how their gentle elegant smile graces their face right now.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe this song wasn't just for her anymore. That would be okay, in time. But this dance was. And so was this ball from then on. And that was enough.</p><p> </p><p>In the timeless bliss of all the world stopping, one could make out the violin weaken.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was a different kind of beast, my longest oneshot to date. It all started after Mint Choco and Cocoa got matching costumes for the holidays, that mentioned a grand final ball to the year. So of course my brain goes "but what if we made this slightly sad and bittersweet?" Thus, this tale was born. I might make a second part for a follow up on Mint Choco's POV if people are interested.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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